There was so much blood.
I backed away from the corpse, growing paler and paler by the second. Bile rose in my throat from the alcohol and nausea. I held it all back, folding my hands on my knees.
I'm so, so stupid. I just killed—no, murdered—a lord. An actual lord.
They are going to kill me.
They would bind my feet and hands at all sides, pulled by the hands of horses until I'd be ripped apart. Stretched to fucking death.
The scoffing of feet had me stiffening.
"The fuck happened, Taj?"
Slowly I raise my chin, looking at him. Dewey holds a bottle that looks expensive and two glasses in the other hand. So many emotions cross his features, but the first one is worry.
He sets down the bottle and the glasses at the table. Then crouching down to his feet, folding his arms around me. He's not as tall as me, but he manages to wind his arms around me.
I shake, my collapse is imminent. The tears that were brimming are now falling. Intend to crush me until there's nothing left.
He holds me through it all. Even when I try to jerk from his hold, he holds me until my breath is steady and I can finally breathe. Keeping his hands on me, moving them to my waist, until we're nose to nose. "I'll take care of it." I nodded in answer, grateful that he doesn't ask me.
Dewey stood up straight and started pacing back and forth. He used to do that when he used to think of a particular scheme plan.
"Go clean yourself," gesturing to the splattered clothes drenched in blood. "I'll have to arrange transport outside the country somewhere quiet for you to set yourself up until things calm down over here."
Always such a fucking burden, aren't you?
The demon inside me longs to be free and have a voice, but I keep that motherfucker trapped with a grip hold, and I have the scars in my fucking mind to prove it.
I keep nodding, the nausea makes my head spin. My legs stand strong, I turn to walk away, but a hand clutches mine. Dewey turned me and held me in an embrace. He rested his forehead on mine, lingering in the moment. I felt like a fool, like he wanted something from me, to say something.
I did not. I breathe him in, this felt nice.
Then unclutching his forehead to mine very sticky one. And finally turning to the other direction.
------
I've killed a lord.
Although a shit one, but killing him would mean my head on a pike.
After I burnt off my clothes, I was left naked, covered in slight splatters of blood. Despite the fact that I was butt naked, I was invisible. Luckily, those sounds of killing were mixed into the blend of sound of moans and sex.
I trotted between the tents looking for a set of clothes.
Half of these tents belong to lords who would cut off my hand for daring to come near. Between the tents stood drunken guards, watching over the nobles making love in the night light.
The only tent that was lit by candlelight, but it had no guards or noise from it. It was a modest little tent in the corner of the field. I crept inside, light on my feet. It seemed empty.
In the corner stood a dressing table filled with the scents of familiar perfumes and jewelry. In the center was a magnificent four-poster bed that was ready for sleep, but no one was in it. I pulled back the curtain into the other room. There sat a young woman with two huge braids on either side that reached her toes, dressed in a delicate gown.
It was the princess. Helena.
She yelped, her eyes bulging. I covered my crotch and any indignant areas. "I'm so sorry, Your Majesty... Your Royal Highness! I lost… My test. Tent is not..."
Where are my words tonight?
Her features went lax and then immediately went to a sort of longing, lingering. I could have sworn that her eyes landed on my crotch before she covered them, pointing towards her temporary cupboard. "There are some clothes that I saved for my manservant, but you can take them."
I snatched the fittings, quickly yanking them over my head and quickly covering my nudity. I plaster on a forced smile. "You can look now."
She slowly uncorked her eyes, her cheeks flushed. Landing on me, I was seated on her bed since there was no other chair in the room. Finally, the tiredness of the night lay on me. I shut down my eyes breathing in the scent of sandalwood.
"You came."
I whip my head towards her, surprised by her tone. It has a sort of longing quality that I still don't quite understand. Does she really remember me?
We were only kids when I was first brought to the royal court. She was a gentle girl, very shy. Loved to read outside the home, she could recite any book she could get her hands on. The king didn't really like that.
Back in the days when I was allowed to be around royalty without a whipping. We would play in the horse stables, we played catch. She used to pull my hair and then straddle me into the dirt.
"I'm actually lost."
"You didn't get my invitation?"
Already tired of the evening, I say, "I have no fucking idea what you're talking about."
I hate all these fucking mind games.
Fuck, did I just curse in front of the princess?
I back gulped and blurted out, "Fuck, I didn't mean… Fuck. I'm not supposed to curse in front of you."
I'm an idiot.
Her eyes focused on me, her concentration on me was frightening. "Still not answering my question, why are you here?"
Helena looked at me as if I were one of her books in one of the many dead languages she had learned. A thought occurred to me: this is a rather small tent for a princess. I heard in recent years the princess has become spoiled, it's a confusing place to find her.
"You're calm."
Helena stood up without breaking eye contact. She pointed out, "This is my tent, shouldn't I be calm?"
Her eyebrows crossed as if she was angry at the idea of being defenseless. I raised my hands innocently, she just glared at me even more.
I tried not to burst out laughing. "I'm a stranger, entering your bedchamber. Why shouldn't you be worried?"
"You're not a stranger. I know you. You're Tajiri."
Technically, my name was shortened. My original name is Tajiri Kogane no warai of House Kowareta. Not only could no one pronounce it, and the name is a reminder that I'm of noble blood. Therefore, I'm Tajiri.
Wait, does she remember me?
"Don't worry about me. Dad has given orders to the rest of the guests of the party. If anyone touches me before my wedding night, they will lose the affected limb." I slowly uncorked my hand from hers at that.
Now that her hand was free, she began to play with a silver bracelet. "And I asked for the area to be cleared, but fate must have other plans in mind."
I apologized, "Sorry for the inconvenience, but I desperately need a bed tonight."
I started moving away from the bed towards the chair, planning to sleep there. But as I scooted away, she scooted even closer.
Unwelcome heat crawled up my spine, curling against me like a cat. Despite myself, I forced myself to stiffen. Helena smiled mischievously at me. "And I desperately need a conversation."
"How lucky I am," the words dripping with sarcasm.
Just her being near me was setting me on edge.
Both of us are sitting on the bed now, Helena's knee brushing mine. Some of the pins were pulled off, and strands loosened from the two braids. She looked... relaxed.
I also let myself relax my shoulders down, she placed her hand on mine. "Of all the people present tonight, you're probably the only one I can trust right now."
I cocked an eyebrow, questioning that I didn't doubt that court was deceitful and was not safe for anyone, but to trust me was also generous. I had my own motivations too.
"I do not trust him," she did not need to say who "him" was.
She bit her lip and waited for the words to come out of her mouth. "My friend Tara, she's a maid, and when he last visited, when she helped him into his bedchamber, he forced himself on her."
Surprisingly, the tension that went through my body wasn't shock, it was terror. It's not unusual for such a thing to happen, but servants are protected by their masters. To attack the people who host you in their home, that's considered a sin.
"After what happened, I sent all the maids out of the house. And when he came back for another visit, he got drunk and started a fire, killing two young boys."
I swallowed the lump in my throat, trying to process the information she had just told me.
"My future husband is a rapist and murderer." She trembled, "They prepared me for my wedding night, but I'm not willing to have my first time being laid by..."
She couldn't finish the sentence.
"After considerable thought, if you would like me to, to sleep with you tonight."
Is she just…?
"No, no way. I'm not doing this. It's too dangerous." I backed away from her as if she were on fire. I needed to be cautious about this, but a small inkling part of me needed this and wanted her. "Why would I do this? I'm not disobeying your father's orders. I'd like to keep every limb that I own intact."
Wait, do I have a choice here?
Helena has a higher ranking than me, so if she were to ask me, I would have to do so. Then again, she said this was my choice. I look at her with interpretation.
She's dangerous and too beautiful for her own good, but not enough for me to risk my life.
Her bottom lip trembles lightly, but she holds it steady. I hurt her feelings. I clutch her hand in support. "As much as you're beautiful, I don't know if I'm willing to risk your life like that."
Raising her pointer finger, saying, "That's why you and I are going to escape to..."
She pulled out the map from her desk and spread the map around her bed. It was so large that it stretched to the sides of the bed. Small drawings of lakes and ship routes, lands whose names I had long forgotten. She crouches down, the tips of her blonde hair landing on different countries. Her fingers wandered until they landed on my homeland, Hajimari.
The home from which I had been banished.
"I want to get out of here and escape to another country. I've heard that your homeland is not an ally but not an enemy. So that they won't return me to my father or sell my body to his enemies. So I thought this would be a good place to hide. I'd be happy if you came with me."
Let it sink in, go home? I haven't been there for at least twenty years. I barely remember what it's like there.
She added, "I know that your dad isn't a good man, but do you think he will help us?"
"I doubt that," I sighed.
I turned to her. "Do you know how I came to be at the royal court?"
Biting her lip before glancing at me. She acknowledges the truth, "Your father sold you."
"He wasn't my father."
That definitely got her attention. She sits upright, listening. My sigh is long and imminent, but she waits.
"My parents' marriage wasn't good. They were never close, but there was an agreement between them. After she had too many miscarriages, they drifted apart. My mother found her way into another man's bed, and I'm the result. I'm a bastard."
Hearing myself say the words, making them real, felt good. "My father didn't like to acknowledge my existence. He wanted a son who would want to hunt with him or be interested in swordsmanship. He tried to bond with me, but we weren't alike, and it was very obvious. I quickly became a threat. If people knew the truth, they would have called them weak, saying that he couldn't keep his wife in his own bed. If I couldn't be like him, then I had to be ignored as a relative."
Feeling like I exposed myself way too much and let her see too much.
Helena has an assessing glance on her before she has a hand landing on my shoulder. "Both of our fathers are shit then."
I crack a real grin, one that I can almost feel is real.
She tilted her chin forward. "I only knew one of my sisters, back when my father was allowed to mess around with maids and ladies of court. We played knights in the sun almost every day. Until it wasn't right for her to stay in the palace. I knew it was wrong, but I didn't try to help her or do anything about it."
She's right. Bastards have an expiration date. They were usually kept in separate households or orphanages.
Although I looked different, my mother was very protective of me at first and wanted me to know my brothers. I was one of seven brothers and sisters. The younger ones were born long after I left. I'm sure that they don't even know that I exist.
None of them ever tried to communicate with me ever since I was sent here. My younger sister was born a year after me as sort of an apology from my mother about me. My two older brothers were rightful pricks, but she always gave them hell for trying to pick on me.
I stand up on easy feet doing the same walking back and forth that seems to help Dewey. I offered, "I know some people there who would give you safe passage. I'll give you the names. I'll send them a letter. You'll have a new identity and a place to live, maybe a job."
Helena walks over from the bed putting herself closer. Closer than any point in this conversation.
She has to tilt slightly her chin, since I'm not in eye level with her into my eyes. She seems to pour her essence into my eyes from hers as if to instill understanding in me. "I chose you, not because of your connection to your father. I chose you because you're Tajiri."